Slice of Life

Beit Shemesh is gearing up for the chagim, both physically and spiritually. Every year, Beit Shemesh hosts a race that is open to men, women, and children. It’s a major local event with lots of fanfare. But some women are not comfortable running together with men. To accommodate these women and enable them to address the issue of health in a way that is comfortable for them, last week the municipality of Beit Shemesh hosted its first all-women’s race. I went to the gathering to check out the event.

Doron has lived in Yerushalayim all of his life and has traveled on Route 1 between Yerushalayim and Tel Aviv thousands of times.  In the afternoon, as the sun begins to set, he often notices cars parked on the shoulder of the highway where passengers pull over to daven Mincha before shkiah (sunset).  The individuals davening dot the shoulder along the highway - one person here, two people there, a third further down. This has always bothered Doron. For one thing, parking on the shoulder of the highway is outright dangerous. Secondly, he thought that if all these people could somehow join together, instead of davening by themselves, they could actually daven with a minyan. He would often think about how he could bring these travelers to daven together in some kind of shteibel.

Last week, my column focused on kidney donations. I would like to add one heartwarming story I heard this week about the same subject that created a tremendous kiddush Hashem. In 2001, Member of the Knesset Rabbi Avraham Ravitz was in need of a kidney transplant.  All 12 of Rav Ravitz’s children were found to be a match for him. Not only did all of his children volunteer to donate a kidney to their father, but they each also fought for the z’chus to be able to do so, so that they could fulfill the mitzvot of both saving a life and kibbud av.

Rav Yeshayahu Heber, a principal and teacher in a yeshiva in Yerushalayim, was receiving dialysis for kidney disease when he became very close with a young man named Pinchas who was also waiting for a kidney transplant.  After an appropriate donor was found for Rav Heber and he received a transplant, he began his own search for a kidney for Pinchas.  Rav Heber did locate a match, but unfortunately, too much time had passed and Pinchas passed away two weeks before his scheduled surgery.  Having witnessed up close the physical and emotional suffering of Pinchas and his parents who had already lost their older son in the Lebanon War, Rav Heber was devastated. His pain spurred him to action and within days after Pinchas’s death, he formed an organization called Matnat Chaim. 

We did not go to the Golan. This may not seem like a big deal, but as we have almost always taken our summer vacations there, the Golan is our home away from home. We love the hikes, the scenery, and the overall atmosphere created by the many frum families vacationing during the summer, especially during bein ha’zmanim, when yeshivos have their three-week break. But this summer, we took a bold step and rented an apartment in Nahariya, the northernmost coastal city in Israel, six miles from Israel’s border with Lebanon.

In the spirit of the nechamah we feel after Tish’ah B’Av, and my need to get myself immunized before the upcoming elections in Israel that will likely be contentious, I thought now would be a good time to reflect on the true, optimistic side of Israeli brotherhood. Israel is the place that every Jew can call home. But while we are all one big family, we live in a very polarized society. A patchwork quilt of many cloths makes up the fabric of our society, each group grounded in ideology vastly different from that of the others. But beneath the glaring differences in our dress, way of life, and belief system, much common ground binds us.